


The Birth of a Country

by ZoeysZone



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alfred is a good brother, Birthday, Canada (Hetalia) - Freeform, Canada's birthday, FACE (hetalia), Fluff, Gen, Hetalia oneshots, Human & Country Names Used, July 1st, Mentioned England (Hetalia), Mentioned Prussia (Hetalia), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Snow, basically all hetalia characters, canada is life, hetalia birthdays, im american so don't blame me, not invisible
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-18 16:51:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7323196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoeysZone/pseuds/ZoeysZone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This will be a collection of one-shots following the countries on their birthdays. I'm sorry that some countries might be skipped, I haven't finished the entire series yet and don't feel comfortable with portraying some characters, not enough confidence in my knowledge of their character development. I know I started in the middle of the year, I'm sorry. But, I will try to faithfully put up each country's birthday chapter on the actual day of birth, some countries birthday's are a little heresay so I'm sorry if I mess them up. Enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Who Are You?- Canada!! Happy B-Day Canada!!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first one is of course my favorite country (even though, sadly, it's not my mother country), CANADA!!!!! Oh maple I love you! He is just so sweet, and I just couldn't resist making this one-shot for him. Matthew is always in need of love. Anyway, can't tell you much, except that this is Canada's Birthday, July 1st. Hope you enjoy it as much as I have.

The days leading up to July 1st, left Matthew in a cloud of doubt. His birthday was always over shadowed by his brother. America always threw a huge party with food and fireworks, inviting all of the other countries. And, though he couldn’t blame his brother for wanting to celebrate, he did feel a little down. But, he could never say that Alfred ever forgot, even if the boisterous American couldn’t come up to visit him for some reason, he always found a way to show the shy Canadian that he still cared.

But, this year seemed different, seemed bigger, more extravagant. For one thing, America had already sent out his invitations at the start of June. And, he couldn’t seem to talk about anything else. Canada had a sinking feeling that this year would finally be the year that Alfred would forget.

Matthew never made that big of a deal about his birthday, but he did give out open invitations to come visit him if the other countries ever got the chance. So, the Northerner wasn’t really expecting much this year, like always. Sometimes he really did hate being ‘invisible’.

So, when that faithful day arrived one morning, he woke up as per usual. He gazed out of his open window, looking out over his beautiful land. It was only when the cold from the wooden floors seeped up into his thick white socks that he set his body in motion. He slipped on a pair of jeans and his favorite hoodie before stomping his way down the stairs, a habit he had unconsciously retained from Alfred. He quickly got to work on making breakfast, stacks and stacks of fluffy pancakes, mumming while he cooked.

He set out two plates, piled high with the delicious flat cakes and began to smother them in his own homemade maple syrup. Only greeting his housemate after taking a bite out of the fluffy pieces of heaven.

The snow white fluff ball responded in kind with a casual, “Who are you?” like always. To which the cheerful Canadian answered with “Canada,” which seemed to appease the polar bear for now.

He quickly slapped on his boots and set off, waving good-bye to Kumajiro as he shut the door. He strolled through the calm streets, enjoying the fresh air that nipped pleasantly at his pale skin. With a warm smile, he greeted his beloved citizens as they passed by. He stopped when he came upon a café, one he frequented often.

Elation bubbled in his chest as he stepped inside, the jiggling of bells accompanying him. He took in a huge gulp of air, the smells of coffee and baked goods filling his chilled nostrils. The warm air left him feeling as if he was being wrapped up in a blanket next to a fire. He loved coming here because it always felt like he was returning home, the calm atmosphere allowing the stress to roll right off him in waves.

He gave the lovely cashier lady a friendly smile as he ordered his drink. With a sigh, he plopped down in one of the many booths, letting his body sink into the plush cushions as he closed his eyes. When he finally heard his name being called, he stood up, jumbling in his pockets as he leisurely strolled up to the counter. By the time he had gotten his wallet out, another beautiful lady was handing him his drink, along with a delicious treat. He opened his mouth to kindly inform the worker that he hadn’t ordered the delicacy when she gave him a sweet smile and softly shook her head. Her eyes seemed to sparkle with youthful amusement as she began to speak.

“No sir, a lovely man has already offered to pay for your drink. He even threw in a lovely slice of cake for you,” she giggled. Matthew blinked at her for a moment, mindlessly taking the offered meal.

“Wait, what man?”

“I didn’t catch his name, but he was quite the handsome fellow, looked to be an albino- he had white hair and red eyes even. Gave me quite a shock at first.”

Canada thanked the bubbly woman before returning to his seat. He scanned the room, but couldn’t find the generous man. Though, Matthew did have a sneaking suspicion as to who that man might be. His thoughts were confirmed when he saw ‘Happy B-day Birdie’ written in his hot chocolate. A smile spread across his face and he closed his eyes as he held the cup to his lips, savoring its taste as the near-burning liquid slid down his dry throat.

After officially warming himself up, he headed out to the local ice rink. He smiled as he neared the rink, pausing to watch his citizens laugh and play together on the ice. Once he bought a ticket, he settled on a moist bench to strap on his skates that he brought from home. As he was skillfully making his way to the opening in the rink, he saw one teen fall harshly on his butt, the teen’s group of friends laughed at the poor kid, until finally one of them, a beautiful girl as it was, skated over to offer him a hand.

Canada knew what was coming when he saw the teen’s mischievous grin, but before he could take in a breath, the boy took her hand and gave it yank, the girl’s body fell forward, colliding against the male. The two stared at each other for a moment, before the whole group dissolved into another fit of laughter. The spell was broken by one of the workers who told them to stop standing in the way of other skaters. One teen, probably an American Canada joked, flipped the poor man off before the group continued on with their skating.

The moment his skates hit the scratched ice, the world around him dissolved. The background noises turned to whispers and the cold dissipated. He could feel the rush as he began to move his feet, his blood bubbling with energy. Mindlessly, he glided across the frozen water, in a majestic dance that spoke of untouched beauty and boundless freedom. His body swayed and swerved fluently, almost as this was its native tongue.

He didn’t know how much time had passed, but suddenly he was broken from his trans as something broad knocked into his back. He didn’t have time to think, his momentum thrusting him towards the cold, slushy Earth. But, before his face could implant itself in the ice, a strong arm wrapped itself around his waist, pulling him up, the sudden force effectively spinning him around. When he finally had both his feet firmly planted on the ground, he looked over to his savior, a tingling feeling filled his chest as his face broke out into a wide smile.

“Ah, young love, can really knock you right off your feet, no?” Came the familiar smooth voice he had come to love long ago.

Matthew gazed joyfully at the long hair Frenchman who lazily looked over Canada’s shoulder, at the couple who bowled him over he assumed. “Papa!” He exclaimed in his usual whisper of a voice.

The Frenchman smiled lovingly as he turned his attention to the younger man, the Canadian launching himself at him. With an amused laugh, he returned the hug wrapping his arms around the Northerner’s slim waist. Carefully, he glided the two of them backwards, leading them towards the wall, so they wouldn’t get in anyone else’s way.

“Bonjour, mon petite,” he chuckled into Matthew’s ear.

“What are you doing here?” The boy sputtered, finally pulling his face out of Francis’ neck.

“Did you think I would forget my sweet Matthew’s birthday,” he replied, placing a gentle kiss on the other’s forehead.

“Thank-you, Papa.”

The Frenchman only chuckled before letting go of the younger country. “Come on, let’s go eat.”

The pair exit the rink of ice, pausing to take off their skates, before journeying down the streets in search of food. They soon enter a lovely diner and quickly seated themselves, sliding into a booth by a window. The waiter came by with their menus and took down their drink orders.

“You looked beautiful on the ice, mon chere,” Francis purred, leaning forward on the table. Matthew blushed at the comment, hiding his face in the menu.

“How long were you watching me?”

The older man gave a shrug, “Not too long, I just couldn’t resist, you definitely have talent.”

This only caused the Canadian to flush deeper. “Papa,” he mumbled. “So, how did you know I was there?”

“I didn’t, I just thought it was a nice day for skating, and since I was already here I couldn’t see why not,” he answered honestly. Their conversation paused long enough for the waiter to take down their orders. “How has your day gone?”

“Pretty well, I made pancakes, and I’m pretty sure Prussia bought me a hot chocolate and a slice of cake.”

“Prussia! That German better not be making a move on you, mon petite,” Francis grumbled in playful anger. “Well, I’m glad you have not been lonely without me.”

“I told you I’m fine, you don’t have to come over if you’re too busy with work,” the country rushed. But, the older man only brushed the words aside with a effortless wave of his hand.

“Non, I will not have it, now let’s eat.”

The two conversed with each other a while after their food was gone. But, eventually Francis had to depart, the poor man getting an earful from his boss over the phone. Matthew watched as his figure quickly faded from view, bustling its way down the busying streets.

After taking a glance outside and seeing the shining sun sit in the center of the sky, he decided to take a calming stroll through his vast woodland.

He loved his land and his people. He loved to be outdoors, despite the freezing temperatures. The smell of the trees and grass was soothing, leaving him with a feeling of security and love. Most might not agree with him, believing the woods was a scary place where one could easily be killed without anyone knowing. But, he was a country and this land was a part of him. The cold had long since numbed his face and chilled his lungs. He hadn’t stumbled around any woodland creatures, save for a squirrel or two, which was rather odd in his opinion, but he didn’t think to deeply about it. He let his mind wonder, losing himself to nature.

His serenity is abruptly shattered when something cold harshly impacts him, slamming itself square in his back. He is throw forward, his legs crippling in surprise. He is left stunned for a moment before finally regaining himself enough to twist his body around. There, towering above his stiff form was the culprit.

“What? This is how you do the snow ball fighting, da?” The figure held a spine chilling smile that shocked Matthew at first, but soon enough he was grinning wide.

In a flash, he jumped to his feet, scooping up a perfect ball of snow in one hand, before flinging it towards the Russian in one fluid motion. The Canadian then scurried further into the forest to escape the incoming snow projectiles. Matthew hadn’t noticed at first, but Ivan had brought along the Baltics, who for once didn’t seem frightened and actually had playful smiles on their faces.

The battle started out as four against one, but soon it was every country for himself. The war raged on between the small group for a few hours, before they all finally collapsed in the snow.

“Happy birthday,” the Ivan belted out merrily, though his laughter shook the other countries.

Lithuania, Estonia, and Latvia each congratulated him, before the four of them headed off. For a moment, Matthew wondered where the countries were going, seeing as they were trailing further into the thick woods, but it was only a passing thought and he easily shrugged it off.

After saying farewell, he trailed his way back to the city, where he could once again wander aimlessly through the streets.

As he was admiring the shop windows, pausing far longer than necessary at a toy shop, he heard a loud, high-pitched holler come from down the road behind him, then suddenly his body was flush up against the sidewalk. The cold had already numbed him, so it did hurt when his face kissed the pavement, but he was disoriented. He heard another, more deep and authoritative voice boom through the streets. Then suddenly the weight was lifted off his back and a large, strong hand was hoisting him up.

“Sorry Matthew,” the voice continued, “Feliciano just got a little too excited.” The voice finally clicked in his brain.

“Ve, sorry Matthew.”

“It’s fine,” he mumbled.

“We heard it was your birthday today, so we came to congratulate you,” the German informed him. Matthew hadn’t noticed the tall man was holding a decorative box until now.

“We got you a present!”

“Um, thank you very much, Feliciano and Ludwig.”

“We would also like to buy you dinner,” the German added stiffly, feeling uncertain about what he was supposed to say.

“Oh no, that’s okay, you really don’t have to,” the Canadian tried to deter.

“You do not want to have dinner?” Ludwig inquired innocently.

“No it’s no…” Matthew sighed in defeat, “of course I would love to have dinner with you two.” The short Italian jumped with happiness as he latched onto the Birthday Boy, dragging him towards a nice, fancy looking restaurant.

The Canadian sat helplessly at the table, staring hopelessly down at the menu, trying to find the cheapest meal. But, to no avail, he had to settle for a plain steak and a water. Italy got the pasta and Ludwig got a large, stuffed potato. The trio chatted casually about their lives, Feliciano acted surprisingly calm, that is, after yelling out ‘pasta’ when the meal arrived.

After bidding the two Europeans good-night, he slowly made his way back home. He felt so very overwhelmed by all the sudden attention, but he couldn’t say he hated it. Matthew let out a soft sigh, in an attempt to suppress the bubbly feeling in his chest. He was so lost in thought, that he didn’t realize that he had already arrived home and was pushing open the front door. The smell of fast food and the sound of the television blasting knocked his from his stupor. His attention flying over to the couch, where a head of a blond hair was peeking over.

“Alfred?” the Canadian called out softly. Despite the low volume, the boisterous country picked up on it, his head twisting to meet the house owner. Matthew nearly winched at the whiplash inducing speed, before numbly traveling over to the sofa.

“Hey li’l bro! Happy Canadia day!” The intruder shouted, standing up to quickly embrace his brother.

The Northerner rolled his eyes, finding it useless to try and correct him, “thanks Alfred. Have you been here all day?”

“Nah, I got here at like five or so,” he shrugged casually. The Canadian’s eyes widened in surprise at the new information.

“Brother, you should have called m-”

“Hey let’s go play some catch!” The older country interrupted, slinging a heavy arm around the other’s shoulder. Matthew cringed at the suggestion, dreading the idea of being pummeled by fast balls.

“Um, I don’t think-” But, once again he was cut off, his brother quickly dragging back out of the house to the middle of the yard.

“Aw, come on Canadia! You’ll like it, I promise.” Without waiting for a reply, the American thrust a catcher’s mitt over the dazed country’s hand, before shuffling across the snow.

The game was surprisingly fun. Alfred playfully tossed the ball to him the entire time, holding back his inhuman strength. Matthew finished the friendly game without a single bruise or bump. Suddenly, he was tackled, both of them falling into the chilling snow. As if on cue, they both burst into fits of uncontrollable laughter.

They stayed like that, lying beside each other gazing up at the starry sky, long after they had calmed. Together, they tried to name all the constellations they could find. The dark sky sparkled in the night, millions of stars peeking out thanks to Matthew’s secluded cabin in the woods. The poor boy had to drag the American back inside when he fell asleep. With a loving smile on his face, he bundled the country in his spare quilt after dropping the man on the couch.

With a content sigh, Matthew strode up the stairs, Kumajiro leisurely trailing after him. This had turned out to be the best birthday he had ever had and he was ready to finally lapse into dream land and let his body rest.

He paused in the doorway, staring at the object laid across his bed, wrecking his plans of sleep. There, wrapped neatly in a shiny red ribbon, was the latest and greatest in hockey equipment. Attached to the brand new helmet was a letter with elegant handwriting spilled across it.

“Dear Matthew,  
I’m so sorry I couldn’t see you on your birthday. I came to your house at noon, but you weren’t there, I must have just missed you. I would have stayed if I could. I hope these gifts will do for now. I promise I’ll make it up to you next year.  
Love,  
Arthur Kirkland”

Tears sprang to his eyes and he let loose the laughter he had been suppressing all day. He can’t express how happy he is at this very moment, except that it is pure bliss. After carefully setting the gifts- a helmet, jersey, gloves, skates, hockey stick, pads, etc.- on the floor, he leisurely slipped between the thick covers, letting his body sink in. Just before drifting off into sleep, he wrapped his arms gentle around the fluff ball that was Kumajiro, cuddling the grumbling creature, a sincere grin lazing across his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading it. (Man did I cut it close) I'm sorry about any mistakes I made when talking about Canada, the character and the country. I am American, which should explain everything, and I've only been in Canada once and that was on a trip from Alaska to Washington.  
> I can't really do accents or anything, so if there is anything you could add or advise me on that would be very helpful. I would love to hear any feedback. If anyone feels offended by something (like the crack towards Americans at the ice rink) then I'm sorry. Were any of the characters a little OOC at all?  
> Also, I tried to incorporate FACE, I just love papa!France. And I tried to make this fluffy, because Canada needs love. Also, I just hate the idea of Alfred always forgetting Matthew. HAPPY CANADA DAY!!! Thanks for your time, see you all in three days, hopefully. :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I might have skipped America's Birthday (ironically), but I am determined to update the rest of the countries' birthdays on their respective days. Up next is the lovely Frenchmen, Francis Bonnefoy. This one isn't nearly as long, but I like how it turned out.

The long-haired Frenchman is seated at a bar late at night, trying to drown his loneliness in alcohol and women. He might come off as an aloft guy, but he really does hate being alone. He is the country of love after all, yet it doesn't seem like many people love him.

The countries had all gotten together for another meeting that morning, which was fine. Despite that, he had been so happy when he woke up that morning, because even if the meetings were boring, he would still be surrounded by the people that he cares about. But, his mood slowly started to deteriorate as the day went on. The meeting was a disaster, of course, and no one seemed to realize it was his birthday.

Britain had yelled at him once again when he continued to pester the man with affection. But, the bushy eyebrowed man did seem quite distracted and stressed out, more than usual that is. America was late again, causing England and Germany to reprimand him, America seemed to wilt slightly like a reprimanded dog, though he continued on with his normal boisterous self about halfway in. Francis couldn't even find his shy little country, Canada, and it wasn't because he was invisible.

His day didn't get any better, the coffee shop he loved to go to was closed for the day, his favorite bakery was sold out of nearly everything, and even his fancy restaurants were jammed full with reservations. Then a rude man cut him off on his way home, and to make matters worse, his car broke down about five miles from his house, leaving him to walk in the sweltering heat. That is how he ended up at this very bar.

He gave a sigh as the brunette clinging to his right arm giggled obnoxiously at him. Even surrounded by hordes of girls couldn't seem cheer him up. With another dejected sigh, he stood and apologized to the girls before departing from the building to continue his trek homeward. He gazed sadly up at the moon as it shown brightly back down upon his beloved city. The streets were calm, a few stray couples clinging to each other as they gazed into their lover's eyes.

He was relieved to finally make it home, rubbing his forehead as he opened his door. He paid no mind to the unusual smell of smoke as he took off his jacket and hung it up. With another sigh, the French man flopped down on his plush couch, his hand falling unceremoniously over his face.

He stayed like that for some time, when he heard soft ruffling near his feet. Slowly, his eyes peaked out from under his hand to find a flushed Britain standing sheepishly in front of the couch. The dusty blond with humongous eyebrows shuffled his feet nervously as he held out a tray. It was then that the tired man realized the Englishman had on mittens and an apron. It took him a minute of starring at the flustered man to finally comprehend the situation in front of him. He stared blanking, blinking his sky blue eyes repeatedly before finally sitting up jerkingly.

The slightly shorter man flushed harder as he took a small step back. France watched the poor man silently before finally, lifting his legs and swinging them over to rest his boots on the wooden floor. With the man now sitting properly on the furniture, the ash blond set himself in motion. England stumbled over, setting down the tray filled with pitiful-looking charcoal blobs, which would explain the burnt smell Francis had encountered earlier, onto the wooden coffee table.

Arthur was the one to finally break the silence, his voice low as the words stumbled out of his mouth. "I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier, Francis. My boss has been on my arse lately and chewed me out all morning."

He continued on nervously when France stayed silent, fiddling with his vest as he stared down at his knees. "I, uh, made you some scones," this caused the blush to deepen as his eyes trailed across the crispy black chunks. "I know your probably tired and I should have called ahead, but I wanted to wish you a happy birthday."

Francis didn't take his eyes off the man as he rambled on, his stomach fluttering happily with every word spoken. Arthur's fidgeting seemed to get worse as the silence dragged on. France gently placed his warm hand over the other man's, effectively stopping them. He couldn't help the smile from gracing his face as the dusty blonde's head shot up, forest green eyes meeting his.

"Thank you, mon cher ami," he spoke softly, just above a whisper. The stubborn man blushed harder as he looked away mumbling something along the lines of 'whatever frog face' as he went to retrieve the tea.

Bonus:  
It’s late into the night, way past his birthday, when Arthur finally leaves and Francis, with a bright smile stretched across his face, makes his way up to his bedroom. He doesn't even bother to turn on the light as he tiredly slips off his clothing for the night. He climbs under the covers and closes his eyes as his body relaxes into the soft push of the bed. It’s only when he feels soft, thin arms wrap around him that his eyes spring open and he blindly searches for the lamp's switch. After blinking away the sudden harsh brightness, he turns his head to the side to find a head of long blonde hair, the owner of those luscious locks gives a small groan at the sudden light. Blue eyes widen as the older male peers down at the beautiful country clinging to him. A fond smile takes over his expression as he turns in the boy's surprisingly strong arms so that he is now facing him.

"Bonne nuit, mon tout-petit précieux," he mumbled kissing the sleeping Canadian on the forehead before drifting off to sleep.

"Joyeux anniversaire, papa," was all he heard before his mind was overtaken by the blissful darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for my French.  
> *Mon cher ami stands for my dear friend. I didn't want to just say friend, I wanted to show that they really cared about each other and were very close. If there is a better way to translate that I would be happy to hear it.  
> *Bonne nuit, mon tout-petit précieux translates to Good night my precious little one  
> *Joyeux anniversaire means Happy Birthday (Can't forget Canada knows French)  
> I tried to incorporate FACE, but I couldn't think of how to add in America (minus the hint of him in the beginning), if I find a way I'll edit it in later on. Comments would be happily received, especially feedback about the characters.


End file.
